visit with a stranger

I get a call from a man I don't know.

He entered his zip code on the J. Hilburn site and my name and contact info popped up.  He tells me,  "I am not interested in buying shirts.  I just need a few suits."  He asks me a lot of questions about the process; he lives nearby; he sounds perfectly nice.  We are on the phone for about 30 minutes, ending with an appointment for last week.

But then Henry (not his real name) gets a cold and cancels.  A few emails and texts later, we schedule an appointment for today.

But then I start thinking.  I watch a lot of Dateline and 48 Hours.  Interesting that the two businesses I am now involved in require visiting apartments with strangers.  But I'm a trusting person, and think I am good at telling if someone is decent.  Although those who met Ted Bundy probably thought the same thing.

Henry says he's in his 60's, is a grandfather, lives in a nice building, and has a beautiful British accent.  To be safe, I set up a  precautionary system with M. She will call me twenty minutes into my appointment.  If I say, "I'm sorry the shirt doesn't fit," she will send the police.  

But of course that isn't necessary.  Henry is a perfect gentleman, and very personable. I learn about all three of Henry's sons, see pictures of them as well as his grandkids, see paintings his father-in-law did when he was a young man, learn that his couch is 79 inches long while most are 84, find out that all of his sons are "very, very smart: one's a partner in a law firm; one's an architect; and one's a banker." I also learn that Henry recently bought 15 ties on the internet and shows me one.  I see a  sport jacket Henry bought many years ago that he takes from his closet, puts on, then  asks me to guess its age.  I learn that until recently, Henry had 80 suits, but now he is down to 40, and plans to donate another 20 soon.  Henry wants to update his suit collection, "But as you can see, I really don't need any new ones."

I measure Henry. Then he spends lots and lots of time looking through all the fabrics, carefully analyzing each one, and asking questions no one else has ever asked.  For example, "What is the gram or ounce weight of the suiting  materials?"  I call J. Hilburn and they don't have that information.  He looks at more fabrics.  Then, after almost two hours, Henry sits back in his chair and says, "There are three unknowns that concern me.  Number one.  I don't know the weight of the jackets. Number two.  I don't know what the actual suit will look like (he says he can't tell from the detailed drawings, and sample photos).  And number three.  There are excellent tailors in the neighborhood I could use for custom clothes."  I think, WTF?  I say, (as politely as possible), "So, does that mean you don't want to purchase anything?"  I try to smile.

Henry smiles back and says, "I'll tell you what.  Let's order a sports coat, and we'll see how that goes."  And so we do.  He chooses my least favorite style (patch pockets and double-breasted) and one of my least favorite colors (a plain khaki wool).

Already I'm anticipating its return.  I hope Henry surprises me.